


Even if My House Falls Down Now, I Wouldn't Have a Clue

by ken_ichijouji (dommific)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Accidental Groping, Alternate Universe - Office, Comedy, M/M, Meet-Cute, New York City, Office Party, Poor Yuuri, Rain, bad day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-20
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2019-03-21 09:05:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13737603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dommific/pseuds/ken_ichijouji
Summary: Katsuki Yuuri is having the worst day of his adult life. Then suddenly...it's not so bad, it's not so bad.





	Even if My House Falls Down Now, I Wouldn't Have a Clue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thehobbem](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thehobbem/gifts), [Yuena](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yuena/gifts).



> I was commissioned for this by the lovely thehobbem! It's based on a real thing that happened to our friend, where a phone was dropped, the hail mary was made, and there was touching of the inappropriate kind of a stranger on accident.
> 
> Anyways, it was a lot of fun though Yuuri's day is so horrible, I am sorry forever megane, spicy Katsudon. Thank you so much to Nuri for the eleventh hour beta!
> 
> Title from "Thank You" by Dido.

Yuuri is arguably having the worst day any human being has ever had, _ever_ , in the history of mankind.

To begin, the power went out in his apartment, therefore his alarm did not go off, and thus he could not shower or brush his hair before he had to run into the office for one of the two days a week he cannot telecommute. Halfway from his bus stop to the building, the sky opened up, and he almost drowned. He’s the only person who didn’t see the forecast, apparently, and he definitely has to roll up the ankles on his jeans, throw his sodden socks in the nearby rubbish bins, and wish for the sweet embrace of death.

The office does a birthday card and full Costco sheetcake for everyone who has a birthday that month and as it’s November, Yuuri should be on both.

He is definitely not on _either_ , let alone both. He’s turning twenty-five! This is a big deal! Quarter of a century! Lower car insurance! More money or responsibility or maybe a really good piece of furniture goes on sale!

Georgi, the Office Manager, keeps crying into his slice while Leona Lewis’s “Bleeding Love” blares ominously on the PA system _ad nauseam_.

Yuuri, still damp after four hours thanks to the lackluster hot air dryers in the washrooms, gives his best office bro Phichit a raised eyebrow.

Phichit shrugs around a mouthful of frosting. He bogarts the corner piece with the roses without fail every month. “Anya dumped him again.”

“Is it again or still?” Christophe Giacometti asks as he sips a purple and pink paper cup of Virgin Monthly Birthday Party Fizzy Punch.

“Yes,” Phichit replies with a bright grin.

“Can he at least choose different music?” Mila Babicheva, their Human Resources manager, sighs around a spoonful of Harlequin ice cream. She mixes the flavors, because life is too short to worry about the combination causing taste bud confusion, or so she claims.

It really just looks like unappealing glop, but the world takes all kinds.

As Georgi’s heart is dying, Yuuri doesn’t say anything to his face about the birthday slight. He will in a week, when he’s downgraded from sobbing and mid-aughts pop, to occasionally-watery-eyed and that uncomfortable album Robin Thicke made about his divorce.

Before the party ends their boss, an executive named Celestino asks for everyone’s attention. “Everyone, we just got word from corporate —- product launch has been bumped from March to January.”

“What?” Chris asks. He’s not the only one visibly outraged — losing two months of time means almost certainly that…

“We’re all on Mandatory Overtime and six day work weeks until launch,” Celestino finishes.

“I’m gonna riot,” Phichit announces.

“You’re five and a half feet tall,” Mila reminds him.

“Though he be but little, he is fierce,” Chris reminds _her_ , and she concedes the point.

Yuuri wants to cry. This means no more telecommuting until it’s over, even though he works so much faster at home when he can worry less about his toy poodle and he doesn’t have the constant distractions of chit-chat and water cooler talk. Vicchan will be so sad and lonely, and now Yuuri has an added expense of Doggie Day Care every single day for who knows how long.

He won’t have time or energy to spend the remaining extra cash, either.

There’s no arguing though because the shareholders always get what they want, and Yuuri packs up to head home with the soles of his shoes somehow still squelching as he takes the elevator to the lobby and walks to his bus stop.

A car whose driver has no understanding of slowing down through puddles sprays him with dirty, fetid water like they were paid to, and Yuuri can’t even be mad anymore. He just heaves an aggravated sigh.

His iPhone resides in a waterproof case, and he calls his roommate. It goes to voicemail and…right, JJ’s anniversary with his girlfriend is today. They’re taking the rest of the week off to go on a bed and breakfast excursion in Maine. They’re going to hole up in front of a fire with hot whiskey drinks and Yuuri is not going to entertain the thought of what else while they’re alone.

He sees his mother’s called, though, and he calls her back. “Mom? Hey.”

“Hi, Yuuri,” his mom answers. Her voice makes him feel so much better just with those two words. “Your father and I mailed your birthday gifts…I’ll text the tracking number in a moment. We really hope you like them. Mari wasn’t helpful.”

Yuuri scoffs. “Yeah, well,” he begins. His hand’s slippery from the car splash, and his phone flies out of his hand. “Oh God! No! _I refuse_!”

His mom’s voice is tinny as she rockets through the air, and while his case is waterproof, it isn’t _shatterproof_. He’s walking on asphalt above a slatted steam grate. Either the phone screen may break or the entire thing may fall into the subway tunnel below. He’s not due for an upgrade until April, and he’s pretty sure his insurance doesn’t cover acts of Murphy’s law.

He dives like a shortstop making a game winning out, and his hands end up miraculously full of his cellphone.

And…a dude’s denim-covered-seven-inches-while-soft dick.

No.

_NO._

“Uh,” Yuuri manages as he tries to recover his remaining shreds of dignity. He manages to stand tall and proud with some kind of other force taking over his body. He adjusts his glass. “My phone fell. I now know what religion you are without any prior introduction between us. I am…quite apologetic.”

This is when he makes eye contact and…oh God no, he is easily the most attractive man to have ever existed. He’s tall and well-chiseled with cheekbones that can cut diamonds for the precision use needed in surgical lasers, eyes like a calm, warm Caribbean sea, soft, silken platinum hair that is actually natural since his eyebrows match, and a smile that could bring color inside of Yuuri’s world as well as everyone else's forever.

If someone can harness the brightness of his smile, solar power will look inefficient by proxy.

Yuuri wants to die. No — good people deserve to die in these circumstances. Yuuri wants to go back in time to be exiled at Karafuto Island. He wants to go further back, be accused of witchcraft, and burned at the stake. He wants to go _even further back_ to the Triassic Period —

“Are you quite alright?” the victim of his wandering hands asks. He’s far too kind given the circumstances, resting his hands on Yuuri’s shoulders until he notices that his glasses are a grimy mess. He gently plucks them from Yuuri’s face and wipes them spotless with a pristine lavender handkerchief.

“I should be asking you,” Yuuri says. “And finding a way to beg you not to press charges. I’m having a terrible day, and I just —“

“It’s alright,” he’s assured. His glasses are put back on with one index finger pushing them to the bridge of his nose. “Really. Truly. It’s fine.”

The man is beautiful and disgustingly kind. Death is needed now more than ever. “Um…can I…buy you a coffee to apologize?”

“I’d like that,” he replies as he extends his right hand. “Victor.”

“Yuuri,” Yuuri replies. There’s a Starbucks two doors down, and they duck inside. It’s getting packed thanks to the gross weather, so Victor sits at a table with two comfy chairs as Yuuri opens the mobile app. “What do you like?”

“Raspberry mochas,” Victor answers. “I like sweet things.”

Yuuri puts in the order for a venti raspberry mocha, and while he adds his own matcha latte, he pauses at the tone of Victor’s voice. He looks up and Victor has his chin in his hands, his eyes are locked onto Yuuri’s mouth, and his voice is definitely flirtatious.

Yuuri gives him a look before turning towards the Mobile Pick Up area. Then he looks at him again.

Victor’s smile widens.

Yuuri side-eyes him. “I…grabbed your dick before I knew your name.”

“Mhm,” Victor says.

“No preamble,” Yuuri continues. “Technically, what I did is an actual crime.”

“Only if I say so,” Victor points out. “I also teach free Krav Maga classes to women at the 32nd Street Y on Sundays. If you were a problem, you’d need a straw for your next steak dinner. You’re cute, and this is the most interesting introduction I’ve ever had! What kind of person are you, Yuuri? I simply must know!”

If he asked at noon, Yuuri’d have said “cursed.” Now…maybe things are looking up. “Well...I’m an MIT grad who’s job just sabotaged all of my free time for the next two months. Mandatory overtime until our app launches.”

Victor laughs. “I’m more than sympathetic. My day job is as a Java and Bootstrap Dev. A few too many clients have asked for miracles with less than ideal notice.”

“Linux and Rails for me, and yeah.” Yuuri laughs. “They pay us because they can’t do it, then they act like they know better than us how long our job takes.”

“The worst,” Victor agrees. He smiles again. “What kind of food do you like, Yuuri?”

Before he can answer, the barista calls out their order. Yuuri gets up, grabs the white and green paper cups, and sits down with his new...friend perhaps. “My favorite is my mom’s katsudon, but I’ll try anything once or twice.”

Victor’s eyebrow rises with interest. “So...if someone were to ask you to dinner at Veselka tomorrow, you’d be into that?”

“If it’s late,” Yuuri says apologetically. Stupid overtime.

“I’ll go all night if you want,” Victor replies with a wink.

Yuuri spits out his latte. When he recovers, he gives Victor a crooked grin. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Victor asks, and Yuuri can hear a faint tremor of uncertainty.

“Okay,” Yuuri repeats.

Victor cheers before sipping his mocha. They get so caught up in getting to know each other, their drinks are cold and unfinished when they get kicked out of the cafe at closing time, having exchanged phone numbers and made plans for Veselka the next night.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hello to me on my [Twitter](http://twitter.com/sink_or_swim) or [Tumblr](http://sinkingorswimming.tumblr.com)!


End file.
